Page 76 of Daddy's Game

“Now you’re getting it,” Sam said with a smile. “Even if you weren’t directly involved in the scheme to rezone her block, you’re still partly responsible. So take accountability for it and save the center.”

“It doesn’t mean that she’ll take me back.”

“No, maybe not. But it’s the right thing to do, isn’t it?”

I opened my mouth, closed it, and then nodded.

“You're right. It is the right thing to do.”

And TGRI deserves some comeuppance for what they’ve done to Grace. My heart is broken, but…I have to do the right thing.

I still love Grace, and she deserves a chance to be happy.

I stood straighter, and my head didn’t hurt so much anymore. Sam came over and pinched my cheek.

“There you go, Brock. There you go.”

I hugged her tightly, and she held me while I sobbed all over her designer dress.

31

GRACE

Istared at the bank account, willing the numbers to change. Alas, they did not.

“Son of a bitch.”

Selma looked up from her tablet and frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing.”

I laughed, and it sounded as if it bordered on the verge of hysteria to my ears.

“It’s just that we don’t have the money to pay for the radio or television spots, so no big deal. If nobody hears about our performance protest and fundraiser, they won’t come and they certainly won’t vote in our favor on the ballot initiative.”

“Come on, Grace. Don’t be like that. We still have the local news affiliates helping us out with ‘human interest’ stories.”

I heaved a long sigh and gained some semblance of control over my boiling emotions.

“No offense, Selma. I know you’re trying to motivate me and cheer me up, but…nobody watches local news much anymore. And those human interest stories will be in the last four minutes of the ten o’clock broadcast, when most people are either asleep or making a sandwich until the talk shows come on.”

I shook my head.

“Face it, we’re fucked–”

The door flew open, and a bevy of students stood out in the hall.

“Miss Grace, did you see what’s going on?”

“No…what’s broken now, Malcolm?”

Malcom pushed up his glasses further on his nose and adjusted his tights.

“Nothing’s broken! Steve and Phyllis are downtown, handing out flyers for the performance at Times Square like you said.”

“Are they okay?”

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